


Puzzle pieces

by Propernicethat



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Comfort, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Fluff, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:11:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Propernicethat/pseuds/Propernicethat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Heavy searched for companionship in another person, what he received was so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puzzle pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jute-moth on tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Jute-moth+on+tumblr).



> An art trade with the bloody beautiful Jute-Moth on tumblr. Hope you like it mate, you deserver it!
> 
> This is my first time writing something like this!

With every touch he braced himself, but with every kiss he softened. He remembered their first time together like it was yesterday. The way his huge hands pulled and stretched his shirt as he removed it, revealing his equally soft yet muscled frame. It was the way those caring blue eyes, those gentle ocean blue eyes looked upon him with something of uncertainty, lacking confidence. As large and heavy arms lowered to cross over himself and how he flinched when he’d placed a hand upon him. He was shaking, that hulking frame, quivering like a Chihuahua left in the rain. His lips parted, yet no words escaped. He remembered urging him to sit down on the bed, remembered stroking his huge shoulders and situating himself between the giant’s thighs. Whispering words of tenderness against his ear, urging him to relax and just enjoy the ride.

XXX

Of course, as time went by the Heavy gained in confidence. He crept up the side of the Sniper’s camper, just as the Bushman was stepping out, cup of coffee in hand.

“Heard you a mile off mate.”

Coffee brought to his lips as he grinned at the Russian giant, slowly seating himself in the doorway of the camper and looking up at the other.

“Was coming to see if you wanted to walk with me?”

The Giant suggested, those small blue eyes gleaming with want. Though he and the Doctor were close, the German knew all about himself and the Sniper. The Medic often shut himself away working and understood that it was unfair on Misha to neglect his needs. He’d encouraged him to seek somebody else out, for company and more and though he’d been hesitant at first, the Giant had agreed.

XXX

Ever since he’d laid eyes on the Sniper, the Russian felt a pang of something inside him. The way that long narrow face creased with his smile and the slouch of his body when he seated, then there was his friendly mannerisms had always attracted Misha. The first time they spoke they’d talked about animals. The Bushman had asked him questions about his homeland, the bears and had inquired about any other wildlife that’d inhabited the frozen tundra. In return Misha had asked him the same and to this day remained fascinated by the different species the Bushman had described.

The Heavy had approached carefully when wanting to make it known he was interested in the Australian. At first he chose to sit beside him at meal times, and he often took his book outside to sit in the sun. The Sniper more often than not willingly joined the Giant, sitting down beside him, dipping his hat over his face and napping in the sun. Misha wasn’t even offended when the Bushman joked about him being the shadiest spot to sleep under in the entire yard. Sometimes the Sniper spoke in his sleep, soft mumblings, and lip curled. Arms crossed but fingers flexing.

It was around three weeks later when the Sniper had his first Nightmare.

They’d been seated in the sun, just like any other day. The usual banter between the two was had before the Heavy nestled into his book and the Sniper tipped his hat and lulled himself into slumber. The Bushman flinched at first, his hands balling into fists so tightly that his knuckles grew white in colour. Misha turned his head to watch him, saw the fidgeting movement begin, flinching and turning. Then the screams, the Giant would never forget the screams. The man’s breathing rapidly increased like he was running, lips parted as he let out the first of many screams. In no time at all his body had built up a cold sweat, shaking his head back and forth before screaming out again. The Russian had quickly set his book down, turning in order to attend to the Bushman. He removed his hat, curled a huge hand to the man’s narrow face. His other hand he brought to his upper back, propping him up and turning him in against his huge chest. On instinct he began to rub the Sniper’s shoulders as he held him, gradually pulling him away from the nightmare. Those eyes flew open, panicked and wide, sweat beading visibly down his features as he looked up at the Heavy, mouth hung open.

“It’s okay. Just nightmare.”

The Giant reassured. The Sniper swallowed a lump in his throat, and both men glanced to one another in silence as they realised the way their bodies were situated. The Heavy had instinctually pulled the man into his lap, just as he’d done with his little sisters back home when they’d suffered nightmares. They’d escaped unharmed but the war had not been kind to them, the youngest two had often woken up reliving that moment of their escape, rushing to either Misha or their mother for comfort.

“I’m sorry mate.”

The Sniper finally regained used of his tongue, gangly long legs stretching out until feet hit the ground, pulling himself up into a stand. He seemed flustered, his cheeks red, lowering himself quickly to pick up his hat, replacing it upon his head and setting it forward, glasses hiding away his gaze.

“Have a good one, yeah?”

And he was off, back towards the camper.

XXX

After that happened Misha was never joined by the Sniper again outside in the sunshine. The Giant often looked out over to the camper to see the Bushman’s frame moving about inside, he gave the Australian some time before finally on the fifth day approaching the camper. He was about to knock on the door when the Bushman opened it, glancing to him in surprise.

“Misha, You doing alright?”

“Have not seen you. Thought I would come.”

“Been busy, and the sun been bothering me recently.”

The Russian stared at him, effortlessly seeing though the Australian’s lie.

“Is because of bad dream, isn’t it?”

“..Come inside.”

The Sniper invited the Heavy into his camper. For Misha’s huge frame it was only a small space and he found himself hunched as he sat upon the Bushman’s bed. It was relatively tidy inside, only some clothing on the floor and a pile of books that’d been knocked over. The Bushman had his back turned to the Giant, after offering him a cup of coffee, which he’d politely declined. When his own was brewed, the Sniper turned towards the Heavy, leaning against the counter as he spoke.  
“Ain’t had that nightmare in the longest of times. Used to have it a lot, kept me awake, what got me on the coffee.”

“What happen in dream?”

“I run, and it’s always the same place. The running don’t last long though mate because there’s a pack of wolves behind me. They catch up in seconds and bam, they’re on me. They ravage me, they pull me apart and I feel everything like it’s really happening. When I wake up I ache, like I ran a marathon the day before. You woke me up before that happened.”

“And have you had dream since?”

“Nah.”

Misha nodded, rising into a stand. The Sniper lowered his cup down onto the counter, raising a hand.

“You don’t have to go mate. Can read your book here if you want to even.”

He suggested, watching as the Giant slowly took a seat. He’d been holding his book the entire time and it was only now that he remembered to acknowledge it, setting it down onto his lap.

“I gotta’ clean the old rifle mate, your company would be appreciated.”

They spent the afternoon talking. They got on the subject of bullets and cost efficiency, Misha spoke passionately about Sasha and the Sniper showed the Giant how he dismantled and cleaned his rifle. It was dark by the time the Russian left the camper, his book hadn’t been touched.

XXX

“A walk? Sounds good. Forest again?”

Misha agreed and after gathering some supplies into a backpack the two took off down to the woodland trail leading off from the base. The two had been together for three months now and revelled in one another’s company. The Russian took charge both in and out the bedroom, a gentle and understanding giant. They had never argued due to the laid back nature of their personalities.  
They admired the woodland in silence, their ears filled with bird song and the gentle wind whistling though the trees. They stopped once they found their favourite spot. In the middle of the woods was a small round lake. The trees cleared here allowing a large patch of sunlight to leak into the forest, making the water glisten and sparkle. The Heavy took to his usual seat up against a huge tree and the Sniper lowered his pack to the ground, he opened it up and took out the Heavy’s book and a bottle of water, holding them out to the Giant who took them with thanks.

Together they stared over the lakes surface, taking in the sights and smells around them. The Heavy patted his knee and the Sniper walked over, lowering himself to sit side saddle against the Giant’s chest. His gloved hand rose to touch the Heavy’s neck, creeping up to the side of his face as their lips met. As soon as they ended the kiss they’d start another, lips parting as tongues intertwined. The Russian’s arms wrapped around the gangly Australian’s slender waist, pulling him in closer and in return the Sniper wrapped his arms around the Heavy’s neck. Hands stroked and touched, gripping and bunching clothing as hips moved. They broke the kiss, eyes slowly opening to glance at one another, a subtle grin crossing the Australian’s features. Unlinking his arms he’d bring himself into a stand, watching the larger male rise behind him. They waltz, swapping places as the Sniper pressed his own chest against the tree, turning around and removing his glasses as he winked at the Giant. Misha laughed, approaching as the Australian threw the glasses down onto the grass, he felt those huge hands on his slender hips, and an oh so familiar bulge against his buttocks. He curled his hips, swaying as the Russian would grind against him, pushing the smaller frame in against the tree. He pressed himself into him, lowering his head, kissing his ear before whispering.

“How much do you want Misha?”

“Enough that I’d walk this deep into the woods whenever he asks.”

The Australian grinned, sliding a hand down to unbuckle his belt, raising his buttocks teasingly against the larger man before sliding his pants and underwear down, they’d fall to his ankles. He felt a large hand palm his arousal, that arm slinking around to grope him. The huge fist engulfing the cock as finger tips worked the length. The Sniper kept his head turned, to look to the Giant, lips parted as he moaned in satisfaction, rolling his hips and bucking against his hand. Their lips locked once more, the Russian’s hands all over the Australian’s body as he continued to grind against the larger male’s bulge. He moaned against his lips, shuddering at the sensation as he brought a hand to his own pants, soon they joined the Australian’s on the forest floor.  
The Sniper turned his head, pressing his forehead to the tree’s rough surface, hands sliding up to grip onto it when he felt the bulbous wet head push between his buttocks, slick with spit, rubbing up against his waiting hole. He almost slipped, spreading his thighs in an attempt to accommodate the huge cock belonging to the Giant. His lips parted and he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling one of Misha’s large hands upon his cheek. He whispered soothing words to the Australian, telling him to breathe gently followed by words of encouragement.

“Fingers first mate, please.”

“Try.”

Misha pleaded. The Australian flinched, mouth open wide as he curled his head in against the tree as the Russian began to enter him. Inch after inch of that huge length was force fed into the Sniper, who produced a mixed collection of moans of pleasure and cries of pain. Asserting his dominance, the Russian stroked and touched the Bushman all over. He pressed his lips to the back of his neck, raking teeth over his skin, revelling in the reactions and movements of the man beneath him. The Sniper dipped and bucked, one leg forward, knee bent against the tree, the other stretched out. The Heavy was inside him entirely and the cocktail of pleasure and pain was indescribable, he writhed and squirmed, moaning and whimpering as he melted beneath the Giant. He was insatiable and Misha loved every moment of it. Once the Bushman had adjusted to the intrusion he began to move against him, he was elaborate and slow at first, gentle with his thrusts as he slipped out to the head before working back in. Matching his rhythm and pace, the Australian grunted and shuddered, groaning as he turned his head, eyes half lidded as he looked to his lover. When they made eye contact the Heavy went in for another kiss and as their lips met he began to increase his speed with his thrusts. With each hard buck the Sniper cried out, mouth missing the Heavy’s as their lips repeatedly smacked together along with their bodies. He kissed whatever part of Misha he could reach, his mouth, his chin, his cheeks or down his neck, he wanted to be as close and as connected to him as possible as they made love.

The Sniper always knew when the Heavy was about to cum. He would increase his speed, his thrusting more intense and he’d pin the other down with his considerably larger body weight. He’d seize up before releasing into the Bushman, arms wrapping him, touching every inch of him, kneading and holding on as he rode out his orgasm, rolling his hips and moaning gently. Despite his size, the Heavy was never loud, his moans turning into soft groans as he kissed the Australian’s ear, down his neck and arching his back in order to nuzzle in between the Sniper’s shoulder blades.

“Feel good?”

“Feels so good.”

XXX

“R-Right…right there!”

Misha was never selfish and was extremely patient with the Sniper who often had difficulty cumming. The Russian sat against that very same tree, the Bushman pressed up against his chest, between his thighs and on his knees. He was holding onto the Heavy’s shoulders, head tucked in beneath his chin as he repeatedly moaned and bucked. The Russian had his hand cupped around the Australian’s throbbing cock, closing around the slick precum coated length.

“That’s right, little man fuck my hand.”

He whispered huskily against the Australian’s ear, his other hand was behind the Sniper, large finger was pressed inside his now sore red hole, working it back and forth into him.

“Like animal, desperate to mate, will put that filthy cock inside any hole you can find.”

The Sniper shuddered, cheeks flushed at his words, keeping his head buried in against him.

“Fuck my hand, good, good boy, just like that. I want to see you cum.”

He chuckled, kissing the Australian’s head, nuzzling into his hair. He felt the Sniper moving faster, fucking against his hand as his breathing increased, moaning and panting heavily against the larger frame. Misha increased his speed with his finger inside him, matching his pace. He got louder and louder, suddenly gripping onto the Heavy tightly, eyes wide open as he cried out, squirting his load all over the Giant’s stomach and chest.

“Sssh…ssshh very good.”

More whispered words, husky against the Sniper’s ear as he melted against him, his grip loosened as he relaxed.

“Thanks mate.”

“It was everything.”

XXX

They’d relocated to Coldfront, and it was only then, with the harsh winds, rain and snow did the Sniper discover that his camper van had a leak. With all the beautiful summer weather they’d had back at Teufort he’d not thought to give the vehicle a quick check over before taking off. Enlisting the help of the Engineer, the Texan was able to pin point the faults in the roof…along with at least five other technical faults. The Engineer insisted that he keep the van overnight to work on it and suggested he actually sleep in his own room at base for once, reluctantly the Australian agreed.

At first, as he lay in that bed, the Sniper couldn’t sleep. The howling wind outside and the environment he wasn’t familiar with unsettled him. He got up, walking to the window and looking out. The garage lights were still on, perhaps the Engineer would let him sleep in the van while he worked on it? Yawning and scratching his head, shivering as the cool air chilled his naked form. He dressed, leaving his hat and glasses behind as he crept out of his room, moving carefully down the corridor towards the main front doors. The Australian stopped when he saw a light on in the cafeterias kitchen area. He approached, his lips curling into a wide smile at what he saw.

The Heavy was sat down at the counter, busy making a delicious looking sandwich. Mouth-watering pieces of delicately prepared ham lined the thick but soft bread. Lined with crisp and crunchy lettuce and tangy tomato topped with creamy, smooth cheese. He pressed it together, pushing a wooden stick though it artistically in order to prevent the large sandwich from falling apart. To finish off his masterpiece he impaled a single olive onto the stick, standing up and stepping back to admire his handiwork.

“Looking good.”

The Sniper interrupted, leaning against the door frame. The Heavy jumped, those eyes narrowed before softening.

“I can make one for you.”

“Wasn’t talking about the sandwich, love.”

Misha’s cheeks flushed and the Bushman chuckled, approaching him. He brought his hands to the other‘s red cheeks, feeling the warmth against his fingers.

“Kiss me.”

Came the demand and the Sniper obliged, pressing his lips to his. When they broke away, the Sniper moved into the previously occupied seat in front of the sandwich. His stomach gave him away, gurgling demandingly and the Giant laughed gently, picking up the sandwich and pressing it to the Bushman’s lips.

“Can feed myself.”

He grunted, but he still took a bite, chewing, looking up at the Heavy as he looked down at him expectantly.

“Bloody beaut.”

Swallowing it down and taking another bite, then another.

“You going to leave some for me?”

“Thought you were gonna’ offer to make one for me anyway?”

The Bushman sneered, leaning in to take a bite but the Russian pulled the sandwich out of reach before biting on it himself, sniggering playfully.

“Oh we gonna’ do this bushman style?”

Leaping at the Heavy, the Giant stumbled back, holding the sandwich up protectively, trying to take big bites whenever he could. The Sniper swiped at him, gripping his wrists as they wrestled, pushing one another into the counter, swapping sides as they struggled, grunting, feet scuffling against the stone floor. Eventually the Sniper lost the battle, though the Heavy was polite enough to save one last bite for him, relinquishing the remaining mouthful still punctured with the wooden stick. The Bushman removed the olive, eating it before consuming the remaining sandwich.

“Bed?”

“Yours or mine?”

“My bed is your bed, come along.”

Misha shut the fridge before approaching the corridor, the Sniper followed him, switching off the light as he went. He continued to follow him back to his bedroom, the Giant opening the door to reveal the vast space. Sasha of course had its own bed the Heavy had constructed himself; his own bed was a double simply to accommodate his own frame. The Sniper watched as the Giant undressed, eyes all over his soft yet muscled form, admiring him as the moonlight came through the window, penetrating the darkness of the room. He did the same, stripping off and he could feel eyes on his own form, looking up as his gaze met with the Heavy’s.

“Have good form, great form.”

The Sniper was smiling again, watching as the Russian climbed into the bed, which creaked under his weight, the Heavy held the blanket open, inviting the Sniper into the space beside him. He fit just right, curling in against him, their bodies touching as arms wrapped around one another, legs intertwined. The Australian rested his head against the Russian’s shoulder and they closed their eyes, no more words spoken as they effortlessly drifted off to sleep in one another’s arms.

Two puzzle pieces, finally joined together at last.


End file.
